


Rosabel, Believe!

by Dryad



Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Family, G, Gen, Inspector Lewis Fanworks Challenge S7 pt 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-09
Updated: 2013-01-09
Packaged: 2017-11-24 07:18:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/631854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dryad/pseuds/Dryad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for kat_lair's prompt in the <a href="http://lewis-challenge.livejournal.com/">Inspector Lewis Fanworks Challenge</a> for Series 7: <i>There was a lot about afterlife (or lack of) in this episode, and that must have been difficult and thought-provoking for both Robbie and James, albeit in different ways and for different reasons. Any introspective ficlets/drabbles around that would be lovely</i></p>
    </blockquote>





	Rosabel, Believe!

**Author's Note:**

> Written for kat_lair's prompt in the [Inspector Lewis Fanworks Challenge](http://lewis-challenge.livejournal.com/) for Series 7: _There was a lot about afterlife (or lack of) in this episode, and that must have been difficult and thought-provoking for both Robbie and James, albeit in different ways and for different reasons. Any introspective ficlets/drabbles around that would be lovely_

**~*~**

When he was very little, before Church his Gran used to bake little cakes topped with strawberries, and tiny tarts filled with custard and dotted with jam. After setting aside a few for his tea, the treats would fill a basket, a clean cloth tucked around the top. Then the whole family would go to Mass, leaving the basket for Father Samuel.

Back home, after a late lunch of potato soup and tinned salmon sandwiches, he and his Gran would walk to the road and catch the bus into town. They would go to terraced flats along the Post Road. His Gran would knock on an unassuming door in the middle of the terrace and they would go in and the woman who told him to call her Mamie would become Grandad and He would talk to Gran.

On the rare occasions they would let him, he would go play with the neighborhood children, but most often he would read ancient copies of the Beano from the stack behind the easy chair in the lounge. By the time Gran was done talking to Grandad, and Mamie was rubbing her temples as if she had a severe headache, he was beyond antsy to get home. Father didn't like it if he wasn't present for dinner, and Mum would blame him for what happened next.

"Gran," he once asked, holding her hand while they waited for the returning bus. "Why does Grandad sound like Mamie?"

"Your Grandad can only talk to me through Mamie."

"Because he's a ghost?"

Her grip had tightened, then relaxed. "Something like that, yes."

He thought on this for a moment. "I want to be a ghost when I grow up, then I could talk to lots of people and they would never know it was me."

A car passed by, a girl with brown braids sitting in the back seat turning to stare at him. He scuffed the toe of his shoe on the pavement, rubbing a fallen leaf into a green smear. "Gran?"

"Mm?"

"When you die, will you talk to me through Mamie, too?"

She slowly bent over to look him in the eye. "James. I'm not going to die. Not any time soon."

"Are you sure?"

A smile. "Yes. Yes, I'm sure. God will not let me leave you without a proper goodbye."

He was glad. Sometimes God didn't seem very nice, but Gran was lovely, and made him cakes, and helped him with his lessons, and took him for walks. 

If God told Gran she wasn't going to die, then all was right with the world.

**~*~ fin ~*~**

**Author's Note:**

> The exploration of an idea I've had for awhile. All will be revealed in 2013.
> 
> Title from Kate Bush's song 'Houdini'.


End file.
